The Uplifted One of the Lancer
by ArcMeow
Summary: So, who taught Pyrrha to be that damn good anyway? AU Origin Story for Pyrrha, may delve into canon storyline later on. Pyrrha OC is not a romance tag. I do not own RWBY.
1. Prologue

For as long as Arcturus had been alive, he'd always known how he wanted to die. The red light went on as the hatch opened. There was a flash of white—then a sea of green spread out before him as he was buffeted by a wall of wind.

"Go go go!" the guardsman said next to him.

He jumped out of the ship in mid-air as turbulence roared in his ears. It was a two hundred-meter drop to the forest with no time to lose.

Arcturus pulled from the well of his soul and it answered his call. His pulse became quicker and the weight of the wind cleared into an encompassing blanket of force. It came with clarity. And all at once, everything made sense.

The flow of the air and the changes it made on his decent as well where he would most likely fall to became as clear to him as day. The same clarity filled his limbs and hardened his body, and the tell-tale gold of his aura flared. It filled him with strength.

He wasn't just some falling rock, he was a shooting star.

Parachutes were too slow and lives were at stake. In their line of business, risks like these came a dime a dozen. A burst of static. "Remember the plan," said a tinny alto.

"Roger," he said.

"Copy that," answered another.

Falling with him were the two others who happened to be there when the alarm occurred: Senka Yamahashi and Celestine Lupo. He didn't know either of them save they were Huntresses. It needed to be enough. Rescues didn't leave room for second guessing.

Arcturus unclasped two slabs of black from his back and unfurled one to a heater shield with lines of gold. He could just make out the scents of pine and earth before he smashed against the tallest trees in his way to slow down. Meanwhile, Senka and Celestine weaved about the broken branches to break their fall and Arcturus unfolded the other slab into a spear, also in black and gold.

They landed on grass and tree roots with weapons out.

There were none of the Grimm in sight. Shit.

"Go!" Celestine barked, then took the lead.

They all blazed towards the village proper.

Pokto village was a logging community with around three hundred people and they were attacked by the Grimm an hour ago. That was a lifetime out here in the roughs. Grass and dirt became cobblestones and they found themselves amidst a sea of panic and screaming. Blood and torn limbs were everywhere and houses burned all around while the Grimm roared and raged.

Celestine was the first to act and the lady of blue and silver crashed into the shadowed werewolves and werebears with her broadsword, leaving only black mist where they perished. The foul creatures were attacking one of the last standing stone hovels.

"Go on," she said. Her form was wreathed with the color of the sky.

He and Senka barked back affirmatives. First order of business was to establish control.

Senka leapt for the air and brought her naginata up with her, then crashed it down where she landed. A wave of upturned stones spread out before her and stumbled the charging Beowulves and Ursa then she dashed for the creatures and destroyed them with her blade.

Her reach felled the creatures left and right while Celestine powered through them, one stabbed and slashed where the other chopped and cleaved.

"Arc, we'll take care of things here!" Senka said. She was burning a deep rouge. The earth continued to rumble and churn beneath her.

He threw his spear at an Ursa and pinned the bear-like Grimm to the tree behind—and jumped into it, caving its head in with his foot. There was no sensation of flesh giving way, just resistance. "Okay," he said.

Arcturus pulled again from within, and the same well of power stirred and radiated outwards. The creatures of Grimm were the scourge of all mankind, and the cruel shadow spawn of malevolence incarnate. And, they wanted nothing more than to destroy everything that mankind stood for.

He pulled harder and harder and let the edges of his soul blur and roar.

All living things had souls, and so too did all living things have the capability to use their aura—but only with man's do the Grimm go mad for. The Grimm had no souls so to speak, so to them, his burning his own like this was like fanning a great pyre for the creatures to find.

Arcturus shone with the brilliance of the sun.

Senka drew geometric gestures with her weapon in the air.

"That'll do Arc," Celestine said while bisecting three charging Ursa with a great cleave.

His last display drove the remaining Grimm in the area into a frenzy and barreling straight for the two Huntresses. To the creatures, it didn't matter who's aura belonged to whom. As long as there was aura, they'd run after it like moths to a flame.

"I'll go on ahead!" he said.

Pillars of earth and stone shot upwards from Senka's position and snaked about the village square, crashing into Beowulves and Ursa while avoiding the few people startled out of their hiding places. Survivors were always good.

Hope was all they had, really.

Arcturus took a big step—and shot with unbearable force through the flames and rubble.

Carnage flashed past his eyes, and Arcturus' brightly burning form cut swathes from the hordes of Grimm in front. Spear and shield met claws and fangs and destroyed everything in his path. He left black wisps and broken bone plates in his wake.

The three of them planned who would do what when they landed: Celestine was to clean up the area and guard Senka while she set-up an area of control with her Earth Dust and semblance, then Arcturus was on search and rescue then destroy. Killing the Grimm was easy from a simplistic one-to-one view, but the creatures weren't biological in nature and neither did they have much sense for self-preservation. They never tired and never hesitated.

Arcturus leapt from pile of rubble to pile of rubble, flaring his aura in bursts as the Grimm came to him in droves. It was a double-edged sword, but doing this was the only viable way to look for survivors. Aura reacted to other auras touching it, and the only thing that set Huntsmen and Huntresses like him and the team from the rest of mankind was their ability to harness it.

He smashed a Beowulf from its head down into the ground with his shield and the corpse scattered before Arcturus could connect. Then a quick slash beheaded an Ursa next to him and another stab skewered the other one behind it.

Fighting the Grimm too was the only option mankind had. There was no reasoning or taming them even after generation after generation of failed attempts and empty victories. They were beasts with nothing but death in their jaws.

Arcturus pressed forward. There were no survivors in this part of town.

On his way to the next row of houses, another wave of Grimm attacked. Creeps and King Taijitus in their ranks this time. Creeps were bipedal raptor-like creatures while King Taijitus were end to end two-headed snakes with one white and one black head. There was a theory on Grimm having hailed from the corrupted auras of animals—but these two forms were just one of the milder reasons that theory got botched.

He shifted his spear into a shotgun, and loaded a tube of Ice Dust rounds. He'd have preferred Fire, but the proximity to the forest made it stupid to do so. Arcturus channeled his aura into weapon and let the pressure build.

He waited for the Grimm to come at him with gaping jaws.

A King Taijitu came at him with its black head—but he kicked it straight into the ground with a roundhouse. Creeps then followed in together with a pack of Beowulves, and he let loose the charged Dust. Dust was a… resource, that let mankind break the stalemate against the Grimm. It was energy and nature condensed into its purest form, and it reacted with aura to release said essence.

Icicles blossomed from the discharge of his barrel and shot outwards with a wide arc. The sharpened shards pierced the creatures and impaled those it didn't outright obliterate and scatter. Creeps and Beowulves fell, and the other head of the King Taijitu was riddled with holes.

Arcturus then closed the gap to a group of Ursa and shot another charged shell from their flank. The shadowed bears flew like ragdolls and dissolved into mist.

He then jumped towards a tree and perched himself atop a branch. Arcturus flared his aura again and drove the nearby Grimm into a frenzy. Beowulves howled, Ursa and Creeps roared, and they all made their way to his tree. Those that leapt for him he smashed down with his shield. The creatures snapped and tussled each other for a shot at climbing.

He flared one more time before pushing it all into his gun and let the Ice Dust blow a raging torrent of ice shards at the beasts. Arcturus then jumped away to avoid all the rising mist. Arcturus kept flaring and firing until he spent his magazine and put in a fresh one.

There was plenty of ammunition to spare—but no patience. Rescues only got worse by the second, and there was still the Western edge of Pokto where the invasion started.

Arcturus pressed a button on his earpiece, "Sen, Cel, I've already cleared sector two."

They barked affirmatives back and the Huntsman resumed his way forward. Killing stragglers and searching the ruins for any survivors.

It took another minute of this before an explosion sounded in the distance as the thunderous cracking of a falling tree echoed out. It sent a flurry of birds scrambling for the sky. He just arrived at where Pokto Village Hall had once stood. There was only blackened plaster and burning wood in its place now.

He flared his aura—and got a reaction. Somewhere to the left of the rubble. Arcturus leapt and landed with a thud. He flared his aura again, and felt the tug near a collapsed beam. Arcturus jogged over and found a man huddled next to some half-collapsed walls.

The man was mumbling to himself and shaking like a leaf.

"Cel," he said, "I found one." Arcturus took out his Scroll and set a map marker where they stood.

"Received," Celestine said. He could hear a steady stacatto of gunfire from the other line. The Mistral Self-Defense Force guardsmen were to land after they secured the landing zone. All in all, this rescue operation consisted of a squad of ten guardsmen, them three Hunters, and another three Galleons for travel. Given the state of the village though, they didn't need that many ships.

"Help has come," he said.

The man just kept mumbling to himself, neither acknowledging Arcturus' presence or reacting. Such was life in Remnant.

He flared his aura again—but the man jerked his head to Arcturus. "You're a Huntsman," he said, his voice clipped.

Arcturus nodded. Having someone ping your aura was lot like a push in the head, mild when done gently but still surprising to the more sensitive ones. Huntsmen and Huntresses even use it as surprise attacks against outlaws at times.

"Please," he said. "There's still a child back there. I heard someone crying in one of the houses."

"Any defining features?"

"It had a red roof." He knocked on his head. "And a blue mail box out front… there was a row of houses burning across it—right in front of the granary!"

"That'll do," Arcturus said, then a quick shift to spear form and a quick stab killed an Ursa that wandered near.

He looked up and saw more Grimm.

The man shrieked—and it spooked the creatures into attacking. Tears streaked the survivors face as he kept screaming. The Grimm were also attracted to more than just aura: fear, despair, anger, and other negative emotions in general. This was also another blow to the biological origin theory. Nothing else in Remnant reacted to emotions like the shadowed creatures, and their uncanny selectivity made it that much more eerie.

Arcturus swept his spear at the next Ursa and opened a large gash from its snout to its belly. There was only black from the creature's insides. He followed through with his swing and caught a Beowulf by the neck when he recovered, then stabbed the next Ursa through the throat.

He spun his spear around his neck and smashed it at a Creep before stabbing it through its mouth. Arcturus then chopped a Beowulf from the side with his shield and dismembered an Ursa with the same swing. He wielded his aura like a feathered wand, moving it however he wished and with full control.

"Go!" he heard Celestine say, but not from the comms. "I've got this." She'd caught up faster than he expected.

Celestine dashed over to the survivor and picked him up.

"There might still be a kid somewhere deeper," Arcturus said to her and over the comm. "I'm going."

"Good hunting," Senka said.

"Don't die," Celestine said.

"I haven't gotten paid for my last mission yet," he said, "of course I'm coming back alive."

Arcturus flared his aura and pulled more out. He checked his Scroll, he still had about eighty-seven percent left. More than enough to finish the mission with.

He reinforced himself, willing his limbs to drink in the aura and resumed his running, wind whipping in his ears as forest floor and canopy blurred from the sides of his vision. With enough Reinforcement, it was possible to also increase one's mental processing faculties and senses—this was called Attuning.

A horde of Grimm blocked the way deeper, but to a fully trained Huntsman, a pack of a few hundred juveniles weren't much. Arcturus became a storm of spear thrusts and shield smashes, cutting swathes through the enemies' numbers and broke through their encirclement.

He cleaned up after anothrer minute.

There was fire in this area of Pokto. Smoke billowed in heaps from some of the trees and houses nearby, the damage was fresher here. He stopped his advance when he saw a row of generators smashed half beyond recognition. Their sparks were most likely what started the fires.

It was too quiet here. He put his shield up. A Huntsman could never be too careful when dealing with the Grimm. He attuned his senses to their limits and flared his aura once more, searching for signs of life.

Buildings all around were burning, plaster and paint crumbling and bubbling from the heat while a steady staccato of gunfire echoed in the distance. There was wind, but not much, just small eddies from the heat. An energy permeated the air—still and heavy. There was no getting used to the weight of a battlefield. He felt a tug.

It was small, barely even a ripple. But it was there. He pushed again and felt the same reaction, the spark was still alive and kicking.

The forest stilled.

"Tsk." Arcturus jumped away from where he stood, and a tree landed where he was a moment earlier. He readied his spear, arm taut to strike.

A blur of black hit the ground and kicked up a cloud of dust and ash than a great roar dispelled the cover.

He saw thick arms covered in heavy bone plating and a muscular chest that heaved with each breath. In front was a great black ape covered in thick armor and spikes. At least now he knew where the earlier roars came from. Its arms pounded against its solid chest, regal and proud amidst the wreckage, and let out another deafening roar.

Arcturus' felt the sound reverberate in his body. It was a Beringel.

"Shit."

"What was that?" Senka said.

"A Beringel."

"Shit," Celestine said.

"I'll be alright," he said, "I can take care of one easy. Heads up in case there's a troop nearby." The problem with Beringels were they were generally older and wiser Grimm than Beowulves and Ursa, more social too.

"Copy," the two said.

The ape inched forward, slow and careful and deliberate. It circled around Arcturus, sizing him up. He stood his ground. No need to reveal more than necessary.

It stopped and grunted, then raised its neck higher than Arcturus' head. Arcturus lowered his stance, shield forward. An ambush from behind wasn't unheard of when dealing with Beringels. The mirror near his shield's handle was for taking care of just that.

The gorilla waited, its body coiled tight. A monster waiting for reinforcements wasn't a comforting thought.

Arcturus let his aura explode from his feet and dashed forward, spear hidden by his shield. It leaped towards him in kind and he kept the stance until the last moment. He waited till its eyes glowed red hot, then raised his shield—and thrust his spear from over his shoulder and into its face. The ape bent its neck away and avoided the blow, but Arcturus shifted his weapon mid-thrust into shotgun form and blew it away.

The Beringel took a face full of ice landed on its back, but it scrambled back to its feet just as quick. Its face plate was cracked with one eye missing and it removed the rest with a roar. Beringels were also notorious for how dense their bodies were.

"Tough bastard."

It roared again, and a Beowulf shot out from the brush. Arcturus cursed, there was another Beringel nearby. A quick shot sent the werebeast back to oblivion while a charging Ursa met its demise with a sharp swing of his spear.

Another tree flew towards Arcturus which he dodged, and the wood hit another two Beowulves square on their chests. The first ape had already taken to the trees. Beringels were a problem by themselves, but any Grimm that survived a fight was bound to grow only more dangerous with time. Rule number five of Huntsman Grimm Engagement: never let a wounded Grimm escape.

Arcturus leapt after the wounded ape and shot at it, breaking the armor plating on its back and shoulders with great shards of ice.

Another roar sounded to the right.

He caught up with another explosive leap, shifted to spear form, and thrust at his opponent. The ape dodged, and another Beowulf flew at him from the right which he bisected. Battles of attrition were pointless with the Grimm.

Arcturus flared his aura again and bathed everywhere with the glow of the sun. It drove the lesser Grimm crazy, and roars echoed out from everywhere.

He pushed all his stockpiled aura into his weapons and put his spear and shield together, the tip of the heater parallel with the shaft. Senka and Celestine conceded the vanguard to him for a reason and now was as good a time as any.

Arcturus pulled more and let his aura move through his heart before pushing it out of himself as a deeper gold enveloped his body. He pushed the excess aura to his feet and let it explode, again propelling him forward. When he reached the peak of his speed—instead of slowing down to land and push off—he stepped mid-flight and oblique against another branch and shot forward even harder and faster.

Arcturus' Semblance was friction.

He caught up to the ape in the span of a breath just as it landed on a branch and cleaved it from the torso with a flash of black and gold light.

Beowulves flew in from all directions—flying with the unnatural arc of directed force. Beringels. Plural. He fucking pulled the entire troop. A string of curses left his mouth as he swung and split all five Beowulves apart. Black mist swirled with his gold.

The forest deepened into a dead silence, this time, held by the Huntsman. Light filtered in from the canopy, and was devoured by the weapon in his hands: a sword too large and thick, and taller than he, more a slab of metal than a blade. Momentum was something only mass could generate.

"Cel, Sen," he said, "I ran into some company." His large blade rested on his shoulder, burning with the luster of burnished gold.

"How bad?" Senka said.

"Manageable." One by one, more Beringels appeared from behind the trees—nine altogether. "Seventy percent confidence."

"Okay," Celestine said. "And the kid?"

"Still waiting."

"We've got our hands full with guard detail right now," Senka said, "transport in forty-three."

"Of course," Arcturus said.

"I'll treat you to a meal later," Senka said.

"No take backs," he said.

"I stand as witness," Celestine said. "Oh, and I know a good place."

Thirty minutes.

He made sure to flush out all the damn apes, wolves, bears, snakes, birds, and boars in the damn forest. Gigantic Nevermores with wing spans reaching ten meters across got spooked into joining the ensuing chaos, while Boarbatusks joined the fray—charging after the Ursa or Beowulves had lunged or leapt. Things kept coming after him left and right and top and bottom and he'd all but run out of shells. Correction, even ammunition wasn't plentiful enough. Also, it just so happened that a Geist was passing by and the trees the Beringels threw at him kept replenishing its limbs as he took them down.

Geists were one of the most horrible Grimm out there, made of tentacles and sheer tenacity—their bodies took in whatever materials were nearby, like ghosts that possessed inanimate objects that perfectly explained why dolls and clowns were creepy.

Okay, that last one was uncalled for.

"Skirmish done," he said between ragged breaths.

"We're holding out here too," Celestine said—puffing every other word.

"Inbound in seventeen," Senka said.

"Copy that," he said.

Arcturus had to cut down replenishing his stamina in favor of protection during the fight. His large sword was planted in the ground—but with the press of a button, the near twenty-centimeter-wide and one-and-a-half-meter body of the sword split and folded out into his ornate shield and spear of black and gold. The combined transformation made use of Gravity Dust within the shield to increase the weight of the blade, a point of pride for Arcturus for devising a way to shift from light to heavy attacks mid-fight. He collapsed his shield and strapped it to his back, then shifted his spear into shotfun form.

He jogged to the mound of rubble that used to be Pokto village hall. He flared what little aura he still had and found the general area where the kid should've been. Another minute of wandering led him to the blue mailbox—already charred.

Arcturus heard a faint sniffle.

He flared his aura again and got a startled response from in front of him. There she was: a girl trapped under the remains of her house. She was lucky the foundation stones collapsed the way they did, pinning her down with a channel of air open—but hidden enough by the flames nearby. The heat didn't help much, but it distorted the view around her like a glamour.

"Everything's alright now," Arcturus said, "help has come."

The girl nodded. She had bright red hair.

He set his hands against the broken wood. It was both a good and bad thing Mistral construction preferred timber and plaster to mortar and stone. Arcturus pulled, but the wood creaked and threatened to break. No choice. He used his semblance again, coating his body with his power—this time reducing friction.

The light from him complemented the ambient flames. They all reflected against the girl's green eyes. The wood gave way, slid out of place with an extension of aura, and he swatted aside the rest of the rubble with his arms—his aura burning bright. He gave her a quick look over. She didn't look injured anywhere. Arcturus didn't wait for the girl's reaction and pulled her out of the wreckage.

She hugged him tight then, her eyes puffed from crying.

"Let's get you out of here, yeah?"

A nod.

Another roar sounded in the distance. They weren't out of the woods yet—and there was never a good time for a pun. His aura wouldn't last long against another horde like earlier, and to have someone to protect on top of that was a bit much. It was a desperate hour.

He steeled himself for what he was about to do.

Arcturus held her close.

She hugged back.

"I'm sorry," he said, more for him than her, and pushed a trickle of aura into the girl.

She gasped.

He felt for the flame within, and found it, then roused the ember into a blaze.

Her body started glowing, at first like a fine white mist, then its color deepened to a more muted reddish glow. To them learned in the ways of a Huntsman, to do so to a civilian—more so a child—was like lighting a torch in the dark for the Grim.

Arcturus cursed her to grow up with conflict an even more present possibility than it already was just to save her life these next few minutes. He decided he'd regret it later. The glow curled and snaked around her before settling. She was livelier and braver than she seemed.

"We need to go," he said.

The girl nodded, awe in her gaze. She looked at her hands with reverence, her aura kept close around her, neither leaking or milling about. She took to it with a natural sense.

"Grab on and don't let go."

She nodded again, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He in turn wrapped one arm around her, and concentrated a bit more aura to his right as insurance. Arcturus could make do with just his dominant arm, and her own aura should help protect her.

"I found her," he said over the comm.

"Good work," Senka said. "We're also doing alright here." Gunfire and roars, the only constant in a fight against the Grimm.

"You cleaned up better than I thought you would," Celestine said.

"I try to earn my keep," he said. They didn't need to know what he'd done just yet. "Overextended myself though, I'm down to fifteen percent."

"I can spare a trip for you in five," Celestine said.

"Please and thank you," he said.

They exited the row of houses where hers had stood, smoke and ash marking their way. When they got out, the view wasn't any better. There were some patches of blood here and there, and from the corner of his eye—Arcturus saw a mangled arm. He didn't notice earlier.

Her eyes darted left and right taking in the tragedy that befell her home.

Arcturus covered her eyes. "Nothing worth seeing here."

She pulled on his hand and shook her head. To each their own. Children didn't stay innocent for long in Remnant. She stiffened her hold on his neck.

"Let's go."

A grunt.

The least he could do was give her a fantastic memory of her rescue. He concentrated aura to his feet, more careful this time—every second counted.

"Watch," he said with a smile.

Arcturus jumped forward, and reached for the tops of the trees. She stiffened. Then he pushed off a trunk and shot downward for a branch and swung himself over with the momentum to bring them even faster forward and back to the landing zone.

He leaped with agility from tree to tree, using his semblance to add to the flair of his performance. They wove loops and lines and arcs through the canopy of the forest, never touching the ground, or the branches longer than a moment. Her fingers were clutched tight at his arm—little gasps escaping every time they reached the apex of their flights.

"So," he said, "mind telling me your name?" he said while brandishing his spear to vault off too thin branches.

She looked back at him, and opened her mouth: no sound came out.

She frowned.

"Not much of a talker?"

She shook her head.

He shrugged. "Excuse me for a bit." They kicked off from another trunk and this time reached the tops of the trees—the endless blue sky above them.

His aura was dangerously low, treading just above ten percent. Thank the Elder Brother for the Gauge System anyway. Still, Arcturus kept up his theatrics, spending precious aura just to coax her out of her shock.

A few more jumps and she no longer clung to him as much. He'd even seen her playing with the wind passing through her fingers. He said, "Someday, you'll be able to do what I'm doing too."

Her grip tightened again—this time less desperate but more firm. She grunted with a fervor. It sounded like a yes.

He felt a tapping on his arm.

"…ank…o."

"What was that?"

"Th…k y…."

"You're welcome…?"

"P…ha."

"Hmm?"

The girl slapped her cheeks then looked Arcturus straight in the eyes.

"Pyrrha," she said.

"Nice to meet you, Pyrrha," he said, "I'm Arcturus."


	2. Chapter 1

Wispy white clouds veiled the sun while low-lying mists crept between the trees, basking everywhere with the yellow of scrambled eggs. The air was wet and cool. It was heavy with the scent of pines. Mistral was an ancient land of sprawling forests and mountains, with villages far in-between.

Small shoes padded against green grass, the dew crisp against her ankles. They kept her on her toes. They'd just broken camp and were now trudging up a hill. It had already been a year since she'd been taken in by Arcturus, but only a few months since she'd started training.

Pyrrha kept her footfalls soft, like a step too hard would awaken her from her dream. She slipped on a patch of mud but kept her balance. It was a good thing her bag was small and strapped tight. She sighed and pressed on. So much for not waking up.

In front, bright yellow lines left a wake of slow swirling white. Her foster father's fashion sense stood out like a beacon in the morning forest, walking without a care in the world and unencumbered by his large bag or the weapons on his back. Like a bonfire dancing to a waltz, he moved in the sure way water rolled off a leaf, or flowed down a stream.

She was, in comparison, a mess of a huntress—in-training.

Pyrrha went under a branch but her hair caught on a twig and cold droplets showered her head and clothes. She squeaked in surprise. A chuckle from ahead let her know her father heard her.

She shot a frown towards his direction.

"Ah, Pyrrha," Arcturus said, his voice fading quick, "so precious."

She puffed her cheeks.

"We don't have all day, bear cub!" He was already hidden by the trees.

Pyrrha hiked up her bag and tightened the straps, metal and other odd assortments clanging within. Just another day in her life. She started forward with a purpose and powered up the last of the slope, grass and dirt catching in her boots. She felt like a drum against the distant chirps and rustling leaves.

Pyrrha caught up to her father at the top, and stopped to catch her breath.

"Not something you see every day, huh?"

She saw hills as far as the horizon allowed, covered with trees and mist. There might have been animals here and there but she couldn't see. There was only one path where the trees didn't grow. And, she was supposed to see a river somewhere. There was nothing but green.

Pyrrha nodded in the affirmative, Arcturus was right about that at least.

"Are we there yet?" Petty, but she wanted some payback for earlier.

"We still have fifteen more kilometers, bear cub." On second thought, she shouldn't have asked. "Tired?" Arcturus' smile reminded her of her parents—except for how his lips curled in amusement. That, she could do without.

"I'm alright," she said.

Her father bent down and took out his Scroll, then expanded it to reveal a map to her at eye-level.

"Remember how to read?" he said.

She pointed at the blinking red dot in the middle of the different shades of green. A scale told her a square on the grid meant a square kilometer. They were nowhere near their destination. Good thing there was a Relay Tower close by.

Her father scrolled Westward and passed a big swathe of blue: The Gladius river. The one she'd hoped to see by now. It was a behemoth that runs through the heart of Mistral, a staggering one hundred meters of water at its narrowest, with even more kilometers snaking around the entire Anima continent.

"That's a big river," Pyrrha said. Her father chuckled. She didn't like the sound of that. Exactly how were they crossing it left a not-so-happy worry at the back of her mind.

He scrolled West some more, and a large grey square indicated their goal, thirty more kilometers away. Hisuigouzan was a hub of trade and an important settlement near Mistral's biggest Dust mine. A good place to be at, and an even nicer place to train in.

"So, how far do you think you'll go this time?" Arcturus raised an eyebrow.

"I'll be alright as long as we get there on schedule, dad." Here, they could properly track with Arcturus' Scroll for positioning, not like that mess of a rut Yaribashi. That last trip was horrible.

"Good point," he said, nodding.

She nodded back with a smile.

"And, Pyrrha." Her father put on a mocking smile. Not again.

"Mmm?" What now?

"Haven't you forgotten something?"

"Eh?" She thought back for a second, remembering the last things he told her before breaking camp: brush her teeth, wash her face, eat breakfast, make sure the safety on her gun was on. There wasn't anything special mixed in.

She then checked her pockets: her scroll was there, and so was the pouch of Lightning Dust he'd given… her… for jump-starting her aura. She stared hard at him—then noticed the faint glow around Arcturus was still there even though they were in the shade. That wasn't sunlight. Her cheeks warmed and she wanted to face palm.

She'd forgotten to cover herself in aura.

"Thought so," he said, smirk widening into a grin. Her father was cruel in his own way, finding amusement in how she embarrassed herself from time to time, more so when she struggled to control the same power he had.

She rolled her eyes at him. "I'm ten, dad." It had _only_ been a year since he activated her aura and rescued her from her village.

"You won't always hear the Grimm, bear cub." He wagged his finger at her then skipped ahead, moving like the wind blowing a leaf. Natural. Like he was meant to go there.

"That's true," Pyrrha said with a sigh. Her hand found her gun in its holster, the cold metal was reassuring. It was something at least.

He stood with hands akimbo over a rock. "You _did_ want to be a Huntress, right?"

Pyrrha grumbled, her hand tightening over the handle. She was still miles away from the promise he'd made.

"Keep up now!" Arcturus turned, and in a moment, was already bounding away, smooth and seamless. To add insult to injury, he was even waving his arms like a clown and twirling about.

He just had to rub it in.

"Ugh." A year of living with aura wasn't much.

Pyrrha took a deep breath and felt for the spark within, rousing her aura. It was like recalling the name of a friend at the tip of her tongue. Tantalizing and close, and just outside her grasp. She remembered the flame that burned within her then, when Arcturus awakened her—and the pitiful ember in its place now.

Annoyed, and because his humming was getting fainter and fainter, she pulled out the pouch of lightning Dust powder Arcturus gave her. A shortcut, he called it. She took a pinch of the yellow crystals, ate it, and bit down.

Zap!

Her tongue jerked back, mouth going numb. Pyrrha kept chewing, sparks licking the insides of her cheeks and biting her teeth. She hated jumpstarting herself like this. She rode it out until the sting subsided and the sense in her limbs sharpened. Something in her cracked open. Numbness gave way to heat.

Fire, deep and rich burst forth from within.

The blaze breathed with unpracticed lungs, like the slow yawn of a cat stretching its legs. It expanded and purred with each breath, rousing itself larger. Arcturus called it a pulling sensation, but to her it burned hotter than the fires he pulled her out of.

Warmth gushed out from her belly and she remembered how the flame spread through her the first time and saw the world with as much color as there really was. It burned in her limbs. It burned in her stomach, and her head was clearer than it had ever been. This was her flame—and, for a second, she felt like she could save the world.

Pyrrha let the fire reach her calves down to her toes, then made a quick dash for her father, the ground running fast beneath her. She wove over and under branches and around trees and puddles as the wind tickled her ears. The dew felt like pinpricks against her skin now, each one more distinct than without her aura, and yet at the same time less concerning.

She was invincible.

Pyrrha caught up to Arcturus without a breath out of place.

"Try not to forget again, alright?" He ruffled her hair, the sensation of his aura against hers like the meeting of water and mud, distinct yet miscible. It was strange how she knew where hers began and his ended, but it was strange all the same to feel the intangible jumble of space.

"Yes, dad," she said. She really needed to learn to spark her aura on her own.

Arcturus chided her into a jog and Pyrrha followed. She didn't have an excuse to refuse, it being so early in the morning and just a few minutes after eating. On the bright side, they made short work of the remaining ten kilometers to the Gladius River.

They arrived before noon.

The mists were gone by the time they got to the river banks, dispelled by the warmer light of a sun higher up in the sky. A shimmering film of blue spanned her vision left and right, as fat brown birds flew overhead, some swooping down into the water—and flying out with fishes in their beaks. She went closer to the edge and saw through the clear waters: the shelf ran deep. Pyrrha couldn't see the bottom.

"Dad?" she said. Her aura kept her warm together with her hiking jacket and boots. Her own scroll told her how much aura she had left: about eighty-seven percent. A relative value, but indispensable nonetheless.

"One second bear cub." Arcturus had his shotgun out and was loading Ice Dust shells into it from his pouch.

The implication wasn't lost on her.

"Okay" —he cocked the gun— "we're going to cross." He was smiling.

She sighed and unclasped the bag part of her climbing rig, leaving behind a harness-like system of straps. She gave her luggage to Arcturus who strapped it down to his own and set his bag horizontal against his hips. Pyrrha then took off her earrings and headband, making sure her jacket, pants, and boots had no loose articles anywhere. Unfortunately, travelling Huntsmen and their daughters weren't entitled to journeying to far-flung villages via Galleon. Those were reserved for emergency missions only.

"Ready?" Her father unclasped a set of straps to his back.

"I'm good."

Arcturus picked her up and gave her a piggy-back ride, then strapped her harness to his own. It was the reason they both wore high visibility backpacks in highlighter yellow. She didn't have a choice in the matter. Up to now, Pyrrha still questions why for the love of Remnant the Hunter Kingdom Armory had these in stock.

Her father double-checked her straps were secured, making Pyrrha look like the strangest kid-shaped bag with a fiery red ponytail ever to be worn by a grown adult. She'd rather cross on her own, riding the wind as she jumped—but sadly, she still couldn't use her aura whenever and however she wanted. Pyrrha sighed.

Arcturus pinched her cheek lightly. "Soon enough, bear cub." From what she remembered on the map, they'd be another sixteen kilometers closer to Hisuigouzan after this. Remnant was a large place.

"I'm starting," her father said.

The air became abuzz with an energy far larger than she had ever produced. Arcturus' aura flared in full made her feel small, like she was no bigger than a year ago when he rescued her. She still had so much to go before she reached his level.

She felt the thrum of power channel down his arm and into his weapon.

The discharge coincided with the burst of aura, as frost exploded over the water, a jagged ice floe appearing from the splash. Another few shells of gunfire created a line of them within a regular distance from each other. A path to cross with.

"Ready?"

"Yes!" Pyrrha grabbed on tight to her harness, making sure to keep as still as possible.

"Here we go!" her father said.

He took a few steps, and felt his aura inflate, engulfing her in its domain. Pyrrha breathed deep. Arcturus jumped. Her aura protected her from the wind as they flew.

They skimmed the surface of the water, the two flying through the air without much lift and the calm flow mirroring their fleeting forms. Turbulence distorted the images behind them.

Pyrrha saw the first ice floe approach quick.

Then Arcturus' foot exploded against the make-shift foothold, and they shot forward with a seamless beat, still barely clearing the surface of the water. It was less jumping and more like skating on air, and she was neither jostled or shaken by her father's movements.

It ended as soon as they begun: sudden, but without the surprising lurch of inertia. Her father had been sure to teach her the concepts of forces and the natural laws after she'd experienced first-hand the bad things that came with ignorance against them.

They reached the other end of the bank no worse for wear, and Arcturus was still the well of aura he was when they started. She could only guess how deep a true Huntsman's reserves went.

Her father unclasped her from his harness and gave her back her bag. Pyrrha then readjusted her clothes into a more relaxed configuration.

They needed to clear this place fast. Aura attracted Grimm the way fire did moths, and when a Huntsman flared theirs this much, it was less a candle and more like setting off fireworks over a lake at night: near blinding. Her father never failed to remind her of the fact.

"Good?" Arcturus asked.

She nodded and roused her still burning aura. It removed the earlier thrill of crossing the river.

"Not too much now."

Pyrrha saw her father's legs and chest glowing brighter than the rest of him. Selective reinforcement was a degree more difficult than just turning it on and off. She tried to do the same, willing the fire to her legs, but her entire body cooled instead. She increased the burn and tried to weaken it only on her arms, but again her entirety dimmed. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's alright, I can carry you to town later in case you run out." Arcturus took out a bracelet from his pocket and put it on. He pressed a switch on its side and a bright blue light blinked on one side while a yellow one blinked on the other. "Flasher out."

She smiled and pulled out one for herself. It was simple a bracelet with high-visibility bulbs: so Hunters and Huntresses didn't lose track of each other while running with their aura on high. It was a point of pride when Arcturus bought one for her a week ago, hers lit up with red and green.

"On second thought" —her father tossed something her way— "you lead this time."

She caught his Scroll, and butterflies danced in her belly. "Okay." Her palms went damp, but the giddy anticipation of proving herself floated up her throat. Pyrrha swallowed her nerves.

Arcturus equipped his shield and unfolded his shotgun into a spear. He was frowning. Her father only frowned when he expected a fight. "I don't like how quiet this part of the forest is."

Pyrrha nodded and unzipped a side pocket on her bag, taking out a bronze buckler the size of her arm. She then took out two plates of metal, also bronze, and as wide as her hand. She set one over a jacket sleeve each, and unfolded them into a pair of bronze bracers.

"Ready," she said, holding her shield by its handle with her right hand.

Arcturus nodded.

Pyrrha attached the scroll to the underside of her left bracer and turned on the map.

"Remember how to set the marker?"

"Yes, dad," she selected the red dot on the grid, pressed tracking mode, then selected Hisuigouzan. A blue arrow indicated where she needed to go and the distance left—it had an accuracy of up to a kilometer give or take. Laser Scans weren't the best mapping tools according to her father.

There were fifteen kilometers left to go.

"You have it?" A beep confirmed for them.

"Yes." Pyrrha made sure she was facing the right direction.

"Come on then."

She started with a jog, letting the fires stoke themselves into a burn.

Arcturus followed behind her.

The ground became less annoying and more solid beneath her feet the more her aura burned.

She breathed in and out, even and rhythmic every two steps. This was important, Arcturus always reminded her. The key to running hard was to make sure you don't shock yourself into fatigue and really take your time warming up. Aura was a great power, but it wasn't magic. It had rules and limitations just like any other force of nature.

Fourteen.

Her first steps were just the prelude to the intro. She let her aura burn a little more, and her legs went through the brush like butter, casting off with casual ease the same hills that impeded her earlier that morning. This was the same level of reinforcement Arcturus had been training her to maintain always—which was a work in progress. Fast flares were easier to do than slow burns.

Pyrrha kept her shield close to her body, and a hand near her gun. Normally, she would have been swinging her arms to conserve momentum, but with a weapon, it was better to keep it level and ready instead.

Thirteen.

"Okay," Arcturus said.

"Yes."

They jogged harder now than when they were going to the Gladius. There was no joking when it came to the Grimm. At least not out in the woods. They kept it up for the next kilometer.

Twelve.

"This should be good enough," Arcturus said. His spear was level and ready, scanning every few feet left and right. Pyrrha too was now feeling the chill she'd come to associate with the Grimm, like the coldness of anger subsided.

She nodded and tightened her grip on her shield, calling on the fire within her. Jogging to a trot for a few kilometers wouldn't wind any Huntsman or Huntress, it might those in-training but Pyrrha wanted to call herself special. Aura helped fuel stamina, and simple prevention of exhaustion was easier than using aura in place of it. The latter was a lesson she wouldn't have needed to learn had she stayed in the city.

Pyrrha let the floodgates loose, pushing some formless mass within. A small lurch in her belly appeared, like the beginnings of a long and loud howl. Then the blaze roared in response, and she answered its call. It flooded her body with strength. She let her aura rage.

Dirt exploded behind her and she hit a wall of wind that melted in her advance, her wake whistling in her ears.

Her legs moved to a beat too fast to set music to, yet she felt the melody all the same. She went over hills and across clearings, her center of gravity shifting with each turn, climb, and descent while her hands reacted to counterbalance her inertia. Somehow, dirt and brush became indistinct and clear at the same time—they were all just part of the path.

It was pure instinct conducting the concerto of her running. It was the same purposeful way Arcturus always moved. Deep in her gut, laughter threatened to escape: the thrill of flaring her aura hard. Harder than she'd ever done before.

Pyrrha rode the high of her emotions—and took to the trees, kicking off tree trunks and climbing, like a crescendo leading to the chorus. Her aura raged within her, unquenched by the cold wind whipping her face or the growing emptiness. It was extravagance, bliss.

She saw the open sky once more.

"Distance?" Arcturus said beside her, he wasn't straining with effort one bit.

They were running near the top of the canopy, pushing off trees and branches. She had forgotten to glance at the counter after losing track of how many times her half-second timer counted. She checked the map: nine more kilometers. The same bliss from earlier returned, a year was still a year of living with aura.

She _was_ getting somewhere after all.

"Ten," she said—the lapse in breath made her dizzy for the fraction of a second. Reinforcing oneself with aura enhanced strength and stamina, and cleared one's head, but it still put a strain on the body all the same.

"Just sign it to me next time."

Pyrrha nodded, and flared her aura some more, dispelling the weakness.

An inhuman screech caught up to her, only now registering the distortion from how fast they were going. The Grimm were nearby.

When running hard, the best course of action was to ride one's momentum and power through: either cut a swathe with a devastating charge, or push hard towards your goal. Pyrrha put up her shield, arm bent at an angle towards her right flank. Never block, Arcturus always taught her, but parry and redirect instead.

The sounds of her feet against wood gave way to a host of roars, and she saw a shadow on the ground to the left of her following closely behind.

Trees cracked behind them, and she looked back to see bipedal Grimm running hot on their tails: Creeps. They had raptor-like features with large jaws and reptilian looking heads. Creeps were fast on their feet but not problems on their own.

"Pyrrha!"

She snapped her head forward in time to duck out of the way of a Beowulf's arm—and raised her shield to defend against another's flying lunge.

But the creature never made contact as a spearhead already slashed through the it's neck.

This was reality.

"Stick to the trees!"

Gunfire sounded behind her and she saw the two Ursa approaching go down in a flash, whatever was left of their upper bodies encased in ice. A King Taijitu loomed just behind the bears.

A jerk, and she then found her feet no longer touching anything.

Arcturus just picked her up and they were now gliding over the leaves at the tops of the trees.

"We'll power through instead," Arcturus said, he had her in his grip using the weight-distributing handle she was taught to carry her bag with. The pressure carried over to the rest of her harness, which meant the handle was _made_ to carry the bag _together_ with the wearer.

Pyrrha decided then that Hunters were crazy people.

A layer of black light surrounded Arcturus' gold glow—his semblance. The same mesmerizing flow of movements captivated her the way her father skimmed over the trees, an otherwise impossible surface. She couldn't see any viable branches anywhere.

Pyrrha caught her breath, and checked the remaining distance. She said, "Eight kilometers, and just keep heading straight!"

Arcturus grunted in affirmative.

She dared a look back and saw three Nevermores flying after them.

"Nevermores, three, six o'clock," she said. Flying enemies were the worst in an open environment like this.

Another grunt and they went below the canopy. Hidden from the gigantic bird-Grimm, and a little less safe Her left hand trailed for the handgun concealed at her hip. She'd only get in the way if she pulled it out now.

Arcturus shot a Beowulf and cocked his gun with one hand before shooting an Ursa this time. He did so two more times to any Grimm that approached too close as he ran without missing a beat.

"Load please." He handed her his shotgun.

Pyrrha received it, thankful for the reinforcement of her aura. The weapon was surprisingly heavy every time she held it. How did something so small weigh so much? The implication of its density was staggering to think about. She reached into her father's hip pouch and pulled out a tube of more ice dust rounds. Pyrrha loaded up the gun and made sure the hatch for the shells was closed before handing it back.

"Thank you bear cub."

"Seven kilometers."

"That was the longest kilometer we'd done so far." Her father chuckled.

To be fair, they did sign-up for an extermination mission, so this level of resistance was within expectations. Grimm just tended to flock nearby human settlements—the more juvenile ones at least—while the older ones tended to wait. Both were just as bad all the same, and these sorts of missions popped up every now and then.

The sun was now bearing straight down. Noon-time, and lunch was delayed by the looks of it.

Pyrrha kept refilling Arcturus' gun for him, and he continued shooting anything that moved too close. She also kept watch for any Grimm her father might have missed—and wished she were strapped-in backpack style again, as crazy as that sounded to her. This whole getting dragged by her bag around was getting old.

They kept going—the undulating highs and lows of green occasionally highlighted with pitch black and bone white. It was dangerous, but Remnant was already plenty dangerous even without her aura.

She smiled. It wasn't so bad for a life cursed with conflict.


	3. Chapter 2

Pyrrha sighed. All this running for their lives was getting old fast.

"Are we there yet?" her father said.

She brought her bracer up and checked Arcturus' Scroll. "Four more kilometers, dad."

Arcturus clicked his tongue and kept going. They were still running through the forest canopy above the ground while roars and shrieks chased after them. Her father had been at it non-stop for the better portion of seven kilometers already while carrying thirty kilograms of her and another ten of gear. Getting carried for two kilometers by her bag straps was horribly disorienting so they risked a quick break to rearrange themselves when they reached that cliff face three kilometers ago. It was the most exciting thing Pyrrha had ever experienced to involve two bags and a lot of frantic untangling of nylon webbing.

Pyrrha gave him a reassuring pat on the head from her piggy-backed position. There was irony to be found in this, she just knew it.

She glanced back, the Grimm were still at it: Ursa, Beowulves, Creeps, and that one Death Stalker she fancied calling Roger.

"What I'd give to let loose," Arcturus said before shooting another Beowulf that kicked up from the ground ahead.

Her father ran with a careful balance of keeping them ahead of the horde, ensuring he wasn't spending too much aura doing so, and trying not to make any more of the Grimm follow them. Which meant he had to avoid flaring his aura.

Which also meant they wouldn't be able to get away anytime soon.

Arcturus handed her his gun over his shoulder. "Load please."

Pyrrha was also getting real confident with her shotgun reloading skills. She put in six shells and handed the gun back to her father without pausing.

He shot another Ursa and Beowulf a few seconds later.

"Dad," she said, "you mind if I shoot a few too?" Sitting back and letting her dad do all the running and fighting made for a boring way to cower in fear. The least she could do was let out some frustration.

"That would be irresponsible of me Pyrrha." He shot another Beowulf, then his aura swelled before blowing a King Taijitu's head clear off. He'd never shown her anything like _that_ before. "But, if you promise not to tell anyone I'll say yes."

"Deal." She was already itching for some action. What point was there to having control over her aura if she couldn't use it when it mattered anyway?

He glanced back and said, "You remember what to do?"

Pyrrha nodded and unholstered her gun. The weight of it in her hands was reassuring. He'd given it to her the same day as her flasher, after she'd finally proven she could use her aura with some manner of control.

"I'll take care of anything coming from the front, and you stop whenever I need to reload, understood?"

"Yes, dad." He'd only ever taken her shooting on the range before, never live at the Grimm during any of their previous trips. It was frustrating, but given how bullets were less effective at carrying aura than melee weapons, she could understand to some extent her father's focus on the basics.

"And don't try doing what I did just now, alright?" he said with furrowed brows.

She pouted. "I don't even know how that worked, dad." Sure, there was some concentration of aura that moved down his arm, but she wasn't sure about the specifics.

Arcturus raised an eyebrow. "Don't think I don't know about you being able to sense aura, young lady."

"You meant to show it to me anyway," she said. She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms. "And you _know_ I can't do Selective Reinforcement yet either."

Her father looked at her funny. "Pyrrha?"

"Oh, come on! I blow myself up _one_ time, dad. One time." He kept his eyes locked with hers and shot a Beowulf without looking.

"Geez." She puffed a cheek. "Fine, I promise I won't even try."

"Good." Her father resumed his running.

" _One time_ ," she said under her breath.

Pyrrha removed the magazine from her gun and inspected one of the bullets: a standard jacketed round. They were simpler than the Ice Dust loaded shells her father was using, since those contained ignitable cores. These though only had metal bullets and nothing else, she also couldn't set anything on fire with them even if she tried.

"Bullets still live?" He blew another Ursa away and leapt to the next tree.

Pyrrha checked the magazine window for the tell-tale glow of active Dust. She saw lines of brilliant red at the backs of the cartridges: Fire Dust primer with more Fire Dust charge inside. "They're okay, dad."

"Nothing in the chamber?" He jumped from one tree to the next, never missing a beat.

She opened the flap to the hollow of her barrel. "None."

"Obstructions?" He shifted to spear mode and used it to vault over a branch too low. All the while, Pyrrha was nestled and secured through the straps connecting her harness to her dad's.

Pyrrha flipped the gun and looked through the barrel, opening the flap to let light in. Never stare down a gun's barrel without first making sure nothing was chambered, and that there was no way for a bullet to get chambered. That was the second thing he'd taught her after making sure she understood to never point her weapon at people. "All clear."

Unless the situation called for it.

"Okay."

Pyrrha loaded up her magazine and chambered a bullet, then flicked her safety off. "Trigger is live."

"Just try not to hit me, okay?" He shot another Beowulf.

"I'm not _that_ horrible." Pyrrha pinched her father's ear and glanced at the Scroll. "Three kilometers left."

"Almost there!" Arcturus pumped his fist—then raised a finger. "Ah, and load me up a flare before you start unloading." He passed her back his shotgun and she had to stow Arkoudaki away again, making sure to remove the chambered round and re-engage the safety.

Firing at one of the Grimm won't make you any better at using your gun, Pyrrha, she reminded herself.

She loaded up her father's gun with the usual ice cartridges before ending with a red wrapped shell. These were specialized rounds that produced red light and smoke for signaling. It also came in other varieties but red stood out best in a forest. It was also universal for "something."

Pyrrha passed her father his gun back.

"Thank you, bear cub."

He cocked it and shot the flare straight up, sending a column of vivid red towards the clouds. The scattering smoke reminded her of her hair and how it would fan out behind whenever she'd run with her aura the wind.

"Finally," she said. Pyrrha readied her gun and pointed it forward.

Another thing her father had been adamant on drilling into her was how to calm herself in any situation—even though she still cracked sometimes. She took a deep breath and steadied herself as best as she could.

Arcturus remained the foundation he was despite all the frantic fleeing. Pyrrha smiled, her worries washing away. "Let them get as close as possible," he said.

She nodded and stoked the flames of her aura. Keeping it burning at a steady rate was easy, but to change its quality and output at will was one of the pillars of being a Huntress.

"Conserve your aura, no need to circulate it everywhere," he said.

She let the warmth fill her limbs some more. If she'd had better control, she wouldn't have needed to flare herself like this.

"The trick is to hold the sensation without pushing."

Pyrrha breathed fire into her lungs, and kept it deep within. Little by little the roars became louder until they thundered in her ears, like waves crashing against the sea. It was the difference between rage and stillness, of a smolder and a blaze.

She felt her father's feet connect with the branches as dull thuds echoed from his movements. The sparse light that filtered from the canopy became crisp and bright in her eyes and there was clarity in each twitch and lurch of the branches and leaves. She felt each groove on her gun and the softness of her clothes even with all their textures and stitches from her headband to her socks. Her father's running and the quickly passing view of leaves and bark was the nearest constant there was.

Attuning was less about what she could feel and more about what she could ignore.

"Keep your arm steady and pull the trigger," Arcturus said.

A beat later, he shot the beginnings of a Beowulf's outline before jumping for another tree. Her father wasn't just running and gunning but also aiming and waiting within those split-second lulls. He shot another lunging Ursa and a juvenile Nevermore that swooped in.

She smelled the distinct scent of spent Fire Dust, like fly ash and embers. Something twitched to the right and she jerked her iron sights at it.

Pyrrha kept her eyes on the rustling.

Then a Beowulf appeared—her heart skipped a beat—claws and fangs at the ready. The roars and shrieks became distant murmurs as she fought the urge to wince. Pyrrha looked the creature in the eyes as she took in a clipped breath. She pointed at its chest and kept her grip stone tight.

She fingered the trigger.

Three quick cracks dropped the Beowulf towards the forest floor.

The roars came back and Arcturus' running left its fleeting form behind quick. She glanced a look back and saw the beast stand up after with three trails of black mist snaking from its back. The Beowulf roared before going back to running after them, though slower. It was hurt, not dead.

She frowned.

"Huh," Arcturus said, "that actually did something. Good shot, Pyrrha." He shot another Beowulf before passing her his gun.

She sighed and kept Arkoudaki in its holster. "It's okay dad, I've still got a lot to learn." Pyrrha opened up Arcturus' ammo pouch and got to work. "No need to try and make me feel better."

"Woah there, bear cub." He raised a finger. "You shot a Beowulf in the chest three times without much spread while riding piggy-back on a Huntsman running full speed and jumping from tree to tree." He huffed. "And you know I'd be laughing at you if you did screw up."

"You're just saying that," Pyrrha said, loading up the last shell.

"Pyrrha, you're ten," he said flatly.

She passed him back his gun and tilted her head at him. Pyrrha shrugged. Okay, maybe that _was_ a bit impressive of her.

Arcturus shot a Beowulf, another, then an Ursa before shifting again to spear form to reach a tree too far. His semblance also worked when channeling it to his weapon, allowing him to grip at surfaces even with the smooth parts of his spear.

Pyrrha fulfilled her part of the deal, shooting anything coming from the front while her dad gunned anything coming from the sides. She kept her aura tight around her, reinforcing her arms and upper body to support the gun's kick. Nine millimeters were already quite a lot for her, and to think eleven was the standard for fighting Grimm.

She replenished Arcturus' shells and kept up her chore.

"Don't even bother aiming for now, just riddle them with bullets as fast as you can."

She planted four shots into a Beowulf.

It got up after.

"Keep your arms tight, and hold your breath as you shoot to still yourself.

Pyrrha only landed two this time at the juvenile Nevermore, the darn things moved too fast.

It lost a bit of altitude before recovering.

"You shot a bird," he said.

Pyrrha shrugged.

"Fine. Get a feel for where your gun is pointed and just keep pulling the trigger. We'll work on your aim when we get to the village."

She slid out her magazine, kept it in her pouch, slid in a fresh one and chambered a new round in one fluid motion. Her father also made sure she knew how to reload and hold her gun first before ever letting her shoot.

Pyrrha landed five this time at an Ursa.

It didn't lose any momentum running so Arcturus shot it for her.

She grumbled.

"You're doing better than you think," Arcturus said.

"I still haven't killed any though."

"That's normal Pyrrha."

Arcturus blew another King Taijitu's head clean off.

"How do you do tha—"

"Uh-uh, nope, keep shooting normally."

"Ugh." She checked his Scroll. "Two more kilometers," she said. "And the forest ends in a bit."

"Okay."

It took another few minutes before her father found himself kicking against thin air before landing on the ground running. The forest opened up to a wide glade while off in the distance was a large grey wall. Behind them, the Senlin Woods were like a fence of trees as black and bone gushed out from the gaps.

The Scroll vibrated to let her know they'd arrived at their destination. "We're here!" she said.

"Finally!" Arcturus said, and bolted straight for Hisuigouzan.

Her father handed her his gun back for another red shell, and he shot it out promptly after. A few seconds passed and green lines of smoke shot out from the walls to form an X, it meant prepare for fire support in the Mistral Self-Defense Force Codex.

Pyrrha let out a breath of relief while Arcturus started laughing. She sighed. She felt Arcturus' Scroll vibrate again and removed it from its holder. There was an incoming call from Hisuigozan.

She answered the call, "Hello?" Huntsmen and Huntresses had their Scrolls reachable through general contact codes any village or city could use for exactly these sorts of purposes.

The other end of the line scrambled for a bit before answering, "Wait, I thought we had a Huntsman coming?"

"I think its better if you talk to them, dad." She pressed the Scroll to Arcturus' ear.

"Thank you bear cub." Her father cleared his throat. "Call sign Mistral Eight, Arcturus Ulan requesting permission for entrance."

A mumble later and she felt him flare his aura hard and shoot harder for the wall. Pyrrha looked back and saw them pull ahead step by step from the Grimm. The distance on his Scroll dwindled like running water to zero.

He chuckled then said, "Yeah, that was my daughter."

Arcturus was making small talk as they approached the wall to about thirty meters before her father turned a hard right, running parallel now to the city.

The Grimm followed them like a line of army ants slowly bending towards the path her father blazed. She took out her gun and pointed at their general direction and made sure she was pointing at anything but Roger.

She opened fire, tripping more Grimm in the process and causing some chaos to their dense lines. Pyrrha giggled at the sight of Beowulves and Ursa fumbling over their faces and crushing one another before stopping herself. She didn't need to take on her foster father's sadistic take on humor too.

"Heads up Pyrrha," her father said.

"Eh?"

She was jerked hard—then found herself soaring through the sky.

It took a second for her to realize her father unclasped her from his back together with his bag to throw her over to the wall. It took another second to collect her wits.

"Daaaaaad!" she said. "Warn me earlier next time!" She made sure to keep a firm grip on all their gear as she reached the apex of her flight. It was almost as fast as when she was running with her aura flared in full.

"No dinner if you fall on your face Pyrrha!" he said, voice drowning in the noise.

She cleared the wall a good four meters before flaring her aura to land on the walkway. She startled some of the guardsmen on duty and rolled for another two meters before stopping. Her father didn't hold back when he threw her. She gave him a point for trusting her at least.

Pyrrha then rushed for an embrasure to watch her father at work.

Arcturus was running towards the Grimm at full tilt and unencumbered, grass blades and roots flying behind him. She could barely make out his gold glow against the wave of black. He then unfurled his shield and spear and combined them into his great sword, the large black blade as tall as he standing out against the bright green grass.

Her father accelerated some more before crashing into the wave with a wide swing.

Limbs and upper halves flew from their initial contact, and he jumped back before crashing in again. Each slash felled two or three of the creatures and maimed more. He kept weaving in and out of the horde while attacking as black mist scattered wherever he passed.

One of the guardsmen whistled a breathless note. "Gotta hand it to him," he said, "no one does it like a Huntsman."

"Yeah," she agreed. "My dad's pretty cool."

The guard gave her a salute before barking a series of orders at the others stationed near them. Guardsmen then manned the walls as turrets emerged from their gaps, folding out into meter long guns. She stared in awe at the barrels gleaming against the sun and the belts of bullets glowing red at their ends.

"Come on men," the guardsman beside her said, "we can't let Mr. Ulan take all the glory!"

Another green flare flew into the air, followed by a red one and five blasts from a siren. It meant live fire in five seconds in the Mistral Self-Defense Force Codex.

Her father stopped his threshing and ran straight back to the wall from about three hundred meters away.

Another blast from the siren, and there was a mechanical whir before the lines of guns thundered outwards. Shooting bolts of glowing metal at the Grimm.

Beowulves and Creeps fell to the large bullets, but the Ursa remained standing. Pyrrha admired the power the mounted turrets packed even from so far away, she also asked to borrow a gun from one of them but was met with a confused smile and a polite 'no.'

Meanwhile, Arcturus just bisected Roger before rushing back into the horde and looking suspiciously as if he were laughing at the massacre.

He was a storm of blades and black starlight.

It took another fifteen minutes of straight up fighting before the horde thinned enough for Hisuigouzan's guardsmen to take over the fighting.

Her father then took his time jogging to the city with a leisurely pace.

"You must be Ms. Nikos," said a voice behind her.

"I am," she answered.

"I am Captain Shù Yuǎn Yǎn," the captain said.

She gave him a small bow and said, "Pyrrha."

"I suppose you'd like to see your father now?"

Captain Shù led her through the walls' walkway and down a flight of stairs. They passed by a small armoury on the way and the guardsmen there waved and smiled at her as she passed. It was common courtesy so she waved back herself.

"It's not every day the guards can see such a young Huntress."

"Oh, please," she said, "I'm still in-training."

"Ms. Nikos," the captain looked back, "anyone fighting outside the walls is a Huntress to us."

She hung her head, unsure how to answer. "I haven't killed any Grimm yet, though."

"And still you fight all the same."

Her cheeks warmed at that.

They arrived at a fortified square in front of a section of wall separate from the rest of the city. The walls here were lower than those guarding against the outside. She'd only ever seen this kind of structure in Mistral before—a staging ground for mounting defenses using the city's entrance.

Together with the awe, Pyrrha also felt some strange looks. She blamed it on carrying her and her father's gear in all its highlighter yellow glory. She hoped that was just her being over sensitive.

One of the guards offered to help carry their bags but she refused, polite of course. Never trust anyone but yourself with your gear, her father always reminded her. Daughters were within that circle of trust, he'd always add after.

"Are you a fan of architecture, Ms. Nikos?" Captain Shù asked.

"Not much," she answered, "though I do like wooden cottages." She remembered the warmth of her home back in Pokto but quickly shut it away.

"Shame then," Captain Shù said. "Open the gates!"

His voice echoed in the square and Pyrrha saw some movement near the right most edge of what could only be the city entrance: two slabs of stone a lighter grey than the rest of the walls. There came a low clanking of heavy chains as the large gates rumbled and slid on grooves on the ground.

They opened a small gap and Arcturus stepped in to a hero's welcome as cheers filled the square. Pyrrha walked up to him together with Captain Shù.

"Hey bear cub!"

She kicked him in the shin and got a dull thud—his aura was still active. Pyrrha was surprised her father was still standing after everything that happened. She was down to fifty-two percent after all that running they did earlier, and yet her father did all that and more and kept going and still managed to look annoying with her failure at vengeance.

Granted she'd only ever seen him hit the single digits once ever since they met.

"Your daughter's quite the firecracker," the captain said.

"Hence the nickname," Arcturus said.

"I'll be sure to remember Mr. Ulan." The captain nodded. "Now then, I am Captain Shù Yuǎn Yǎn, and I'd like to formally welcome you and your daughter to Hisuigouzan."

"A pleasure, captain."

"Thank you, captain," Pyrrha said with a bow. Though she felt ridiculous with the mess of bags on her person.

"Now, as much as the Chief would like to meet you, I'm sure you'd like to have a rest first."

Her father waved a hand. "No worries, I'm still good to go."

The captain nodded.

"And please, call me Arcturus."

Pyrrha tilted her head at her father and checked his Scroll. He still had twenty-two percent left. Huntsmen were strange creatures.

She handed his Scroll to him together with his bag.

"Thank you bear cub," he said while receiving them.

"Understood Arcturus, if you'd follow me then, I'll escort you to the Chief."

Captain Shù led them to the Immigration office first where Pyrrha noticed there were more tourists than merchants going in and out. A first from the previous villages they'd visited before. However, she could at least infer it was because of the bustling airport. Since it was right next to the Immigration Office.

The fact that this place even meritted an Immigration Office already said a lot. Whoever said this was a village, lied.

They received their passes on their Scrolls, not like with smaller villages that issued physical tickets. There was an express line for Huntsmen and Huntresses but given their escort, it was as easy as knocking on the window and just sticking out their Scrolls. Perks of the profession according to her dad.

Citizenship in Remnant was on a per city basis given the shortage of territory. All the kingdom's capitals had an Immigration Office and apparently the same went for larger cities like these. During their previous trips, the Village Chiefs only needed some introduction before they let the two of them in—some didn't even mind any formalities.

Pyrrha met the round Mayor—because this was so not a village—and was introduced to her daughter, Mori. Mori she liked, but she wasn't too fond of their Huntsman bodyguard Marcus. The guy had a strange air to him.

Lastly, they were given another digital pass.

This one to a hotel.


	4. Chapter 3

Pyrrha walked into the bedroom in a fluffy white bathrobe. The room's carpet tickled her soles as she dragged her feet to the sofa by the window-side. She hit a button on her Scroll and the curtains parted to a clear blue sky over upward reaching roofs in different sizes and hues. Mistral's skyline had more buildings than open air while Pokto had more trees in its vista, a common trend she'd observed for the better defended settlements.

Down below, people walked to and from Hisuigouzan's bustling shopping district: couples dressed in fine robes, the occasional loner in field gear—families and their children. There were restaurants and grocers', accessory and clothing stores, and what looked like a Hunter's goods distributor to name a few.

A normal life played out just a stone's throw away from their hotel balcony.

Pyrrha took a sip from her mango smoothie in the other hand and set it down on the coffee table before seating herself. The mayor gave them a Presidential Suite with unlimited room service in the Four Maidens Hotel as thanks for the extra service—even if Arcturus could afford it. Life as a Hunter was, in a word, extravagant. At least for those within the bounds of the law, but even crazier for those outside.

She stretched out her legs and let the sunlight shining in warm them.

The Azure Sea salt and red sap bath bomb sure hit the spot after roughing it out in the woods, and running that far was a new experience for her. Her feet were still buzzing from all that, and she was sure to feel this all a lot more tomorrow morning. It was one of the downsides to Reinforcement: losing track of how tired your body really was. That, or not having enough nutrients in the body to sustain the enhanced healing.

She twiddled with her still damp hair. It was a lot longer now than her bob a year ago, she was also a lot stronger too. Pyrrha took another sip from her smoothie and ate the little slice of fruit included with it. Mangoes reminded her of the Sparrow and the Giving Tree, of bedtime stories and what she'd left behind.

Pyrrha ruffled her bangs when the chilly air swung to her. The cold was better than having the noontime sun burning her scalp. Air-conditioning was also something she only learned about after Arcturus adopted her, it was amazing how small her world was before it all changed. She stood up and inched her way to one of the queen beds before falling onto it face down.

She ran a hand against the cool sheets and breathed in deep, relishing the smell of Mistralian sandalwood and lavenders. She spread her arms and legs out and made crease angels against the deep blue covers. The girl then snuggled into the sheets and let her hair bunch up around her. She breathed out, the softness of the mattress was sinking her into a lull. She didn't want to move from here until she'd slept the same number of hours she'd had to camp out for: around thirty-two hours over their six days of travel give or take.

Her Scroll vibrated in her hand. The contact said it was her amma, she aanswered the call, "Hi amma Aldi, dad got us here in Hisu safe and sound."

Pyrrha heard a light chuckle before the steady alto of her great grandmother said, "That's good to hear Pyrri, and knowing your father, you're staying in the Four Maidens?"

"Yes amma," she said. "And we got it for free as thanks from the mayor."

"As _thanks_?" There was a pause. "Pyrri, you've only learned to do Reinforcement for a few weeks, and Hisuigouzan's a good four days of hard running. _You_ can't have made it there in less than six or seven days unless your father carried you."

"I've gotten better amma," she quickly offered.

"I know, rassgat," her great-grandmother cooed. "And I'm really proud of you, but I also know your father can do stupid things. That, and he didn't mention anything about the mayor just now."

Sorry, dad. I tried. "If it's anything, I was able to injure some of the Grimm on our way here though."

A pause.

"With my gun, I meant," she quickly added. "Dad still hasn't let me touch anything for close range."

Her amma hummed a flat note. "For a moment there I thought you meant melee combat. But yes, I'd say that is indeed impressive. And you were using nine millimeters, I remember?"

"Yes, amma." No need to tell her any more than necessary.

"Very good Pyrri, you can be proud of that. And, camping?"

"The sleeping bags you bought for me were really warm, amma; and hiking while using reinforcement is also just as hard."

Another light chuckle. "You get used to it Pyrri. Any problems with food?"

Pyrrha's stomach grumbled. She remembered they hadn't had lunch yet after getting their room. "It's a good thing we didn't have to hunt for food." Arcturus had one organizer dedicated purely to canned goods. "And dad taught me about edible berries and a little bit on how to track too just in case."

"And Arca's not just bribing you? I wouldn't put it above the rassgat." Her amma had a strange way of showing affection.

"No amma Aldi, dad's behaving himself."

Something started buzzing from the other end of the line.

"Ah, of course." Her amma sighed. "Right, glad you and Arca are alright, I'll check in on you again some other time. Amma needs to straighten something out." Pyrrha heard some frantic scrambling in the background and her amma muffled the mouthpiece and screamed something she didn't understand. "Take care always, and feel free to call me whenever Pyrri."

"Yes, amma. Take care on the way."

"Bye now Pyrri." Her amma closed the call.

Pyrrha plopped back down on the bed with a poof. Then shivered at the memories of her first days with her new family. Also, getting shot at and calling it training was not part of her idea of becoming a Huntress, and neither of growing up.

She grumbled into the mattress—then checked how much aura she had left on her Scroll. It said fifty-five, and to think half-way would poop her out this much.

As if on cue, the door to the room opened and in came her father dressed in a fresh pair of his field gear: his favorite black and yellow track suit. Arcturus never left Mistral without two pairs of them, and he also had more back home. "Finally, you're done, come on, bear cub," Arcturus said, "the sun's still high and we still need to get lunch."

He walked over to their dressers and picked through their stuff. Her father then tossed her a red shirt and a pair of shorts. "You can sleep later after we visit the Prep School."

She checked her Scroll, it was already one-thirty in the afternoon.

"But, room service!" Pyrrha grabbed onto the sheets.

"Real Mistralian cuisine is in the streets!" Her father pulled out her hairbrush and headband. "And, I'm showing you off to the kids in the school."

"And I thought I was the kid here," she mumbled.

"Hey, I'm still pretty young." Arcturus took her in at twenty-three, while her real mother and father were thirty-three and thirty-five when they passed.

"Yeah, but you're supposed to be the role model."

"I am."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I never said it was for good conduct, but you can't deny I've been teaching you really well in the ways of the Hunt." He stuck out his chest.

"You're the _only_ one I know who's ever taught me to hunt. Amma just made me run around, and oma and opa like me too much to make me do any of the stuff you make me do."

"Fair point." Her father narrowed his eyes at her. It was a habit she picked up from him when they first started out.

A pair of panties landed on her face. Her bear prints. He was only gonna get more annoying if she kept up her own stubborn streak. "Ugh. Fine."

She picked up her clothes and went for the bathroom.

She'd dragged her father into the first restaurant she saw and ordered a mother and egg bowl for her and a pork cutlet for Arcturus. They finished as soon as they started with her father vowing to never eat in the same place ever again. Calling it a hack for not cooking the egg together with the sauce or some such.

Arcturus had a bag of yakitori and Pyrrha had a crepe. "Next time, I choose," he said.

Pyrrha shrugged. "I still say we should've just got room service."

They were walking on cobblestone paved streets about five meters wide. The houses and stores here by the main road used more modern materials in their construction: concrete and stone unlike her home town which used plaster and timber. They were more colorful too, using vibrant paints so generously, their aesthetic also favored swirling clouds versus Mistral's more ornate geometric lines.

It was another fifteen minutes to the Hunter Prep School according to the map. The city was large for a settlement so far away from Mistral, and it was more a testament to the city's own defenses than it was of security in the kingdom in general.

"We could run this in less than three minutes, dad," Pyrrha said. Compared to the wilderness, city living was a lot slower in terms of lateral movement.

"That's true bear cub." Her father kept his leisurely pace, still moving with that dance-like grace.

"This place is huge." She was already inching her Dust pouch out of her pocket.

"I know, Pyrrha." He looked at her stash and shook his head. "We could cause a panic doing that, bear cub."

She pouted. "For running?"

"I'm a Huntsman, Pyrrha. When we run, it's usually towards something bad." He gave her a wry smile.

She scrunched up her face in confusion. "But you're not even armed."

"Even then bear cub, people know a Huntsman or Huntress when they see one. And you too, you may just be one in-training, but you can't deny how fast you can go if you really put your mind to it."

She sighed then kept her stash in her pocket. Her father had a very good point. Still, fifteen minutes was a total drag compared to the less than three she knew she could do. But again, let the guy who has their Hunter's license decide. "Fine, but can we at least brisk walk or something?"

"It's not every day we can take our time like this, you know. Trust me, you'll miss these slow days once you start in the academy."

Another good point, but what really mattered was they were here now. "That's still years away, dad."

"Yes, but you won't notice them pass, bear cub. Time always moves faster than you think." He gave her a wink. "Now then, time for another lesson. How much aura do you have left?"

Pyrrha shrugged before checking her Scroll. "Sixty-one percent dad, last I checked I was at fifty-five in the hotel."

Arcturus passed her his Scroll. "Check mine."

He was already back up to forty after his twenty-two while she only got three since the two hours they'd arrived. She tilted her head at him. "How?"

"It's better you see it yourself." He gestured at her pocket. "Go ahead."

Pyrrha raised an eyebrow at him but followed anyway, she took out her pouch, got a pinch of Dust and ate it. Sparks licked her teeth. "Ack."

He smirked. "Yeah, I remember when I started too."

She kept chewing through the pain until the familiar flames started tending to the unpleasant burning against her cheeks. The stiffness in her legs lifted, and clarity took its place. "I hate doing that."

"Then learn," he said with a smirk. "Anyway, start Attuning and keep looking at me."

Pyrrha followed and stoked her flames, letting the embers glow from within. Just as her aura smoldered, so too did a rising desire to cut loose emerge from the back of her head. Power like this was too tempting to resist.

She breathed out, trying to dispel the excitement.

It began with murmurs before they grew to a constant rumble of jumbled words. The grey stones lining their way became sharper, each bump and crack taking definition as if she'd run her fingers over them. All sorts of food too tickled her palate, making her drool just a little bit despite having just eaten. Focus, she reminded herself.

"There," she said, looking up to her father.

Arcturus took a quick look at her, meeting her eyes and checking for the tell-tale glow of Attuning. "Excellent. Now, what do you see with me?"

Pyrrha squinted her eyes, increasing the density of aura around them. She didn't understand the question too well so she stoked her aura some more and drew closer to her father. The rumbling became more like tremors, each step of hers echoing in her ears. "I don't get it."

"What do you see?"

She looked away from him and focused on the people instead. Usually, if she couldn't see something her father told her about, it meant she wasn't supposed to. As for what she was supposed to, maybe someone else held the answer. However, no one looked any different than Arcturus. "I still don't get it."

Her father smirked again before holding out a fist.

"Fine," she said and took the bait, looking his hand over. "I still don't see anything."

Arcturus smiled at that. "Good. Now look again."

She did and saw his yellow aura. "I'm supposed to check for your aura?"

"Yes," he said, "now, didn't you notice how you didn't sense me concentrate it?"

"Oh, yeah." She took pride in being able to do so, but yes, she didn't notice like he said. "You hid it from me?"

"Not necessarily, more like it's a side effect." She started feeling that taut thrum of power radiate from her father. "And now, you just felt it, right?"

She nodded.

"It's technically called Suppression, but it makes it sound like some stealth technique."

Pyrrha nodded again. It made her think of ninjas and spies.

"But it's not." The thrum disappeared and she couldn't see Arcturus' glow anymore. "Suppression is a lot like locking back your aura again, but it's not permanent so no worries there."

"So, there wouldn't be any wasted energy?" It was a common thing with the hero cartoons she watched.

"Again, yes and no." A pause. "Hear me out first before you start labelling me all sorts of crazy again."

"You're losing me, dad."

"Okay, tell me again what Flaring does."

"You make your aura stronger."

"You're not wrong, but how?"

"Amma said it was like turning on the faucet more."

"Yes, and Attuning?"

"Like filling up a water balloon."

"If you noticed, it's a lot like making water run."

She nodded. "But Flaring wastes aura, and eventually the water balloon would pop unless you use it up."

"Right, but that's on the assumption that you've got an endless tap."

Pyrrha nodded again.

"So, it's more like a water tank instead?"

"Yes. Now, how does a water tank get water"

"Yeah, I'm still clueless here," she said. "You stick a tap to it?"

"For now, let's assume the water tank's open at the top."

"So it catches rain."

"Yes, and how do you make it catch more rain?"

"Make the hole bigger."

"Excellent."

"So… the body is like a water tank that catches the rain, and has a tap at the bottom for letting it out or making water balloons with?"

"Close enough."

"So how do you make the hole bigger? And where does the rain come from?"

"Now you're asking the right questions," he said. "Some say the rain comes from Remnant. That we're capturing the energy already present in the world. This is also what some theorize where Dust comes from. Others, say the rain comes from the soul, and though morbid—say that Dust comes from the remains of civilizations past, or… well, the people that used to make up those civilizations at least."

"That's kinda messed up," she said. Not at all finding any comfort in the idea of eating what used to be people.

"Heh, your amma also told me about this when I was learning like you." He laughed a bit. "Got me off the stuff for like a week before she dragged me through hell."

Pyrrha gave her father a gentle patting on the back. "There there, dad."

"Right. You'll learn more about the theories on where Dust comes from in combat school. Anyway, so regardless of where the rain comes from, Suppression does allow it to gather more."

"Okay, so if the body's a water tank. Can you also swish the water around? Like the changing weight of a water bottle half-full?"

"At least I know you're thinking. And yeah, that one's called Flow, and it's a very advanced form of aura manipulation."

She raised an eyebrow. "So that's what you did with your shotgun?"

"Yes, but please don't try it. Remember the tap?"

Pyrrha nodded.

"Now imagine if the tap couldn't let out all that bloated water."

She pursed her lips and didn't bother continuing that line of thought. "Duly noted, dad."

"So, back to Suppression. As an image, it's like you're forcing the water against the tank's walls to let it catch more."

"Wouldn't that hurt?"

"As long as you do it right and don't push too hard, no."

"And if you do?"

Arcturus stared at her flatly.

"Understood. So how do you expand the water tank?"

"It's like Attuning, but instead of letting your aura burn, you move it without Coloring it."

"You've never taught me that before."

"I'm teaching you Hunter academy level stuff Pyrrha, you sensing aura is quite a game changer."

"Cool."

"The whole picture gets a lot more complicated, later. But let's stop here for now."

Pyrrha nodded, seeing how they were now in front of a modest building with about three floors. There was a cacophony of gunfire and clanging metals coming from the concrete walled-off grounds and two guardsmen in red standing by the gated entrance.

"Good afternoon Mr. Ulan, the mayor notified us you'll be visiting," the left one said.

"Please go on ahead, miss Amenochiya will be showing you around," the right one said.

Arcturus said his thanks and led them through the iron-wrought gates. She noted how almost everything was made of stone inside, polished smooth and in shades of dark grey. There was only one large lecture hall in the ground floor with a shiny wooden floor and inside was a lady in a royal blue kimono.

They neared her, figuring she was to give them their welcome speech or something. "I am Tsubasa Amenochiya, one of the instructors here," she said. She had fair skin that almost glowed against the darker fabric, and silky black hair whose bangs were held back by a gold hair pin. Pyrrha found the lady's button nose cute, though her height made the red head wonder whether she was closer to her age or her father's.

Arcturus shook hands with her, unfazed by Pyrrha's curiosity. "Arcturus Ulan and my daughter Pyrrha," he said.

She didn't miss how Tsubasa blushed at the implication. "I'm adopted," she offered, and saw the understanding dawn on the lady.

"That explains that then," Tsubasa said, earning a cheeky smile from the Huntsman. "I take it you'd like us to look after Pyrrha during your stay?"

"She needs to interact with children her age," he said, "she spends too much time around me."

"If you mean my sense of humour, I got it from you," she said, returning a smirk. Even if they weren't related. She owed him her laughter and life and she was thankful for everyday she got and more.

"I'm sure she'll do great," Tsubasa said, "may I know what she's already capable of?"

"She can already do Reinforcement and Attuning but has problems with Initiating her aura."

"I see, and what does she use for her igniter?"

"Lightning Dust," he said with a grimace.

"Oh," she said.

"Why?" Pyrrha asked.

"We use Water Dust here instead, since Lightning tends to harm the users," Tsubasa said. "But Lightning is more reliable with letting one get accustomed to their aura."

Pyrrha shrugged. "It's also a safer fire starter when we're out camping."

"That it is," Arcturus said, "but I explicitly remember telling you to make the fires the traditional way."

"You never asked how I got the fires going," Pyrrha said, "I just went with the flow."

Tsubasa laughed like a bell chime, light and airy. "I can see she really likes her father."

"He's the sanest person in the family," she said. "And my great grandmother's a crazy old lady."

"She's not wrong," Arcturus said.

"I… see."

Tsubasa led them to the courtyard where some of the students were already practicing, and Pyrrha saw the familiar excercises: there was, of course, the classic physical training; Dust ignition using earth—not fire like with her amma; there was also some doing the Reinforcement exercise, having to carry some weights. Just some. Not an entire barbell. She was really starting to see a pattern here.

She tugged at Arcturus' jacket. "Dad, just to be sure, but what are they doing?"

Tsubasa answered, "Their doing Ignition and Reinforcement excercises."

"Ah," she said. "I didn't recognize them."

The instructor pursed her lips, "Your father said you already knew these?"

"My grandmother trained her on fire Dust and loaded barbells instead of single plates."

"And don't forget getting shot at during PT." They were rubber bullets with half the charge of a normal round but they still hurt a lot.

A corner of Tsubasa's lip twitched at the revelation.

#

A/N

*Amma is Icelandic for grandmother.

**Pyrri and Arca are diminutives/hypocorisms in Icelandic.


End file.
